It's Jack's 18th birthday, and we're celebrating like crazy down at Irving Hall. Pie Eater and Itey are already drunk, already trying to sneak out the door and back to the Lodging House. Specs and Dutchy are snogging in a corner near the stage. Medda is trying to sing above the noise, and I'm sitting here in the corner, sipping water, and watching the fireworks as Snoddy and Spot argue over which one's going to leave with Jack, and Race takes bets as to which one will win. Jack is oblivious to the whole thing; he's lying under a table, sleeping off his alcohol. I can't believe no one's called the bulls on us yet, we're making such a racket.

Medda starts a slow, pretty song that I've never heard before. It's nice to listen to, and even manages to calm the noise a little. I sip my water.

"Heya, Skitcha!"

I jump at the sound of Skittery's voice, and turn to look at him. "Whaddaya want, Skitts?"

"Come dance wit' me, Skitcha." he says. His voice is even, which is surprising. Normally Skittery's the first one down when there's alcohol involved.

"Why shoul' I dance wit' youse?" I challenge.

He makes a puppy face at me. "C'mon, Snitch. I wanna dance."

"Ta dis?"

"Yeh! C'mon, dance wit' me!" He takes my hand, and the usual spark jumps through my arm. I've been after him for two months now, and I'm still not used to the way my heart skips when he touches me.

And I can't resist his eyes.

I smile at him, and stand up. "All right, c'mon. Le's go."

The dance floor is mostly clear; Dave and Mush, the only other two boys that aren't drunk yet are already dancing, so into each other that they don't notice Bumlets vomiting in the corner. Skittery raises his eyebrows at me as he puts one hand on my waist. Shivers are running up and down my spine as we start to dance. He's very good, with a natural rhythm that echoes not only the music, but my heartbeat as well.

He looks at me, and his face is slightly pink. "So…Skitcha. How're t'ings treatin' ya?"

I smirk at him. "Why's it mattah ta youse?"

He grins sheepishly. "Well…I dunno. Somethin' ta talk 'bout."

"Does we hafta talk?"

He considers. "I dunno. We coul' do odda t'ings…"

"Like dance?"

"Nah." A shy smile creeps over his face. "Like dis."

He leans down then, brushing his lips lightly against mine. The kiss is brief, shy, yet strong, loving.

He stares at me for a moment, then starts to leave, when I grabbed his waist to stop him.

"Where ya goin', Skitts? Da song ain't ovah yet." I say quietly.

He stares at me for a little longer, then narrows his eyes. "I loves youse, Snitch." he says. "I's loved ya since ya foist came ta da Lodgin' 'Ouse."

I smile at him. "Dance wit' me, Skitts."

"Why?"

"'Cause I loves youse too."

His face is shining as he takes me into his arms again, and I rest my head on his shoulder. He kisses my forehead, then my mouth again, and this time he lingers there, tasting me as I taste him, loving me as I love him. We're lost with each other, the only two people on Earth. I realize, as he holds me closer and hesitantly puts his tongue in my mouth, that I'll be leaving with him tonight, and we'll find somewhere to hide and join our hearts and souls together…

All because of one simple dance.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

My country-music loving friends and I were singing Toby Keith's 'You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This' today at lunch, so that's where this comes from. I 3 THAT SONG SOOOO MUCH. Anyhoo. Yesh. I needed some serious Snitch/Skitts-age.

And I still need more, so I'm going to go write Outkasts right now…**hah, I just gave something away! I'm a dork!**

So…

Swing Heil and Chow!